


We Were Just Children

by sahlo_folina



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, I Love The Batboys And That’s Why I Torture Them, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, no editing we die like Jason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:46:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25723054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sahlo_folina/pseuds/sahlo_folina
Summary: Jason is at peace. He can’t hurt anymore.Now Dick carries his brother’s pain.
Kudos: 24





	1. Jason

**Author's Note:**

> Potential triggers ahead; please be careful.  
> A few quotes are taken from Batman: Under the Red Hood.
> 
> I wanted to write cute fluffy things but I sneezed and my fingers typed this instead. Also I suck at titles, please forgive me.

“What hurts more, A or B?” 

Pain. 

“Forehand?”  _whack_ “Or backhand?”  _whack_

Make it stop. 

Please. 

Jason spits in the Joker’s face. 

“At least the first Boy Blunder had  _ some _ manners.” 

His body shrieks in pain, but he doesn’t make a sound. He refuses to cry. If Joker wanted a victim who would squirm and beg for mercy, then he picked the wrong kid to fuck with. 

He loses count of how many times the crowbar swings, how many bones have been shattered. His breath rattles in his chest, his head pounding in rhythm with the cackles that fill the warehouse. 

He can hold on. He can be strong. Bruce will come soon. 

... _Right_? 

Joker’s leaving. Maybe he’s grown tired of this game. 

“Tell the big man I said hello.”

Jason pushes himself upright, wobbling. He manages a step or two before collapsing in a painful heap. The child in him begs him to give up. It hurts too much. He can’t make it. There’s no use in trying. 

_ Yes there is.  _

He’s not a child. 

He’s a soldier. 

He drags himself along the cold, hard floor. Handcuffs clinking, body screaming in agony. 

The door. 

He made it. 

He pulls the handle. Locked. 

_No_. 

_No no no_. 

He sits with his back to the door, fighting to keep the despair away. He still has time before he bleeds out. He can still be saved. He hears a faint beeping and glances toward the sound, fighting to see through eyes blurred with pain. 

A timer. 

A bomb. 

** 00:10 **

His heart races. He’s still alive. There’s still time. 

** 00:09 **

_ There isn’t.  _

** 00:08 **

Bruce’ll come. 

** 00:07 **

_ He won’t. _

** 00:06 **

Panic sets in. 

** 00:05 **

He’s fifteen years old. 

** 00:04 **

He’s too young to die. 

** 00:03 **

His features settle, his breathing evens. He squares his jaw and faces his fate. Youth does not equal cowardice. 

** 00:02  **

_ Dad is coming for me. _

** 00:01 **

_He’s not coming._

** 00:00 **

Jason doesn’t see the man frantically digging through the rubble. Doesn’t feel his body as it’s picked up, cradled gently against the man’s chest. Doesn’t hear the broken whisper of his own name. 

He doesn’t hurt anymore. 

Beautiful boy, be at peace. You can’t hurt now.

Beautiful boy, you will hurt again soon enough. 

It’s not over, not yet.

But for now, rest. 


	2. Dick

Dick wants to scream. He wants to hit something. He wants to hit Joker. He wants to hear his knuckles crack against the monster’s face, again and again, make him pay for what he’s done. Shatter his hands against that killer. 

_ Jason’s killer. _

No. Shut up. I can’t think of that now.

Dick wants to make him bleed.

_ Make him bleed like Jason bled. _

Shut UP.

He wants, needs, to feel pain on the outside that can match the pain on the inside. But that’s not possible, is it? No physical injury can match the throbbing ball of hurt inside his chest. Hurt he’s felt before. Hurt he’ll undoubtedly feel again. 

_ Baby brother.  _

He hates being treated like glass. He hates Alfred for smiling that sad smile and asking if he’s okay. He hates Bruce for treating him like he’ll break at any second, hates Bruce for being cautious around him. He hates it all, but at the same time he wants nothing more than to be wrapped in a pair of loving arms. 

_ If you’d been better, he would still be alive.  _

That’s a lie. 

_ He spent his last breath hating you. You should’ve been there for him.  _

He loved me. He was my brother. There’s nothing I could’ve done. He would understand. 

_Pathetic_. 

Maybe Bruce is right to worry. 

Dick told Bruce he was clean, he’d stopped years ago. But he lied. 

A couple of months isn’t enough to break the habit. 

_ The addiction.  _

I’m not addicted. 

He feels the familiar itch under his skin. He drags his fingernails across his arm, softly, not enough to do damage. 

It’s not enough. 

It never is. 

_ It’s what you deserve. _

Yes. It is. 

He bleeds. 

Maybe one day it’ll be enough. 

_ It never will. _

He misses Jason. He misses his brother. 

He always wanted a little brother. 

Maybe he’s just not meant to be happy. 

_ Is it worth it? _

I don’t know. 

He wants to rage, wants to destroy. But he can’t. 

He’s too weak. 

_ Coward_ . 

He curls in on himself and cries. 

Beautiful boy, it’s okay to cry. It’s okay to hurt. You’re young, and your whole life is ahead of you. 

He wasn’t the first. He won’t be the last. But their love makes it worth it, even when they get taken from you. 

Beautiful boy, you’ll be okay. 

**Author's Note:**

> [i have a tumblr!](https://hushlittlewing.tumblr.com/)


End file.
